


Think About Me Instead

by softintelligence



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Minor Sheriff/Parrish, Scott McCall is a Good Alpha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles keeps focusing on his dad's new relationship. Scott is there to help him get his mind off of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think About Me Instead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wristrocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wristrocket/gifts).



> Thanks to [sunwukongs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwukong) for the look-over, and [wristrocket](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wristrocket) for getting me into _Teen Wolf_ in the first place.

Coach sends Stiles home early for practice--mutters something about Stiles being absent-minded and getting balls to the face and how he doesn't want to be responsible for a McCall/Stilinksi freak-out--which is fine by Stiles. He's had a lot on his mind, what with his dad and . . . His dad. Ugh. 

Stiles is about halfway to the locker room when Scott bounces up next to him, giving him a 'woops I messed up' look. 

"What, you gave him the puppy eyes?" Stiles asks.

"Lacrosse season's over anyway," Scott says, waving his stick around casually. "So it's fine. We're gonna study at your place, right?"

"Uh," Stiles says. "Uh, yeah, yeah. My place." 

The Jeep stalls on the way out of the school. "Come on," Stiles says, pounding his palm against the steering wheel. "Christ, I just got this checked out last week! The stupid mechanic said everything was fine!" 

"Want a ride on my bike?" Scott asks. "I can just take you to school tomorrow too, man." 

"Nah, I'm sure it's fine, I just--" Stiles tries again, but the engine sputters to another halt. 

"Come on," Scott says. "We gotta study for our history exam. I don't know about you, Stiles, but I don't wanna stay after school with Mr. Yukimura again. Do you know how much he likes to talk about basketball? A lot." 

Stiles rubs his face with his hands. "Fine," he says. "Just tonight. I'll get my dad to jumpstart it tomorrow." 

Stiles hops on the back of Scott's bike and wraps his arms around him. Two months after the Nogitsune, and sometimes, he still can't seem to get warm enough, but Scott is like a heater. The ride home is nice, the wind blowing in their faces, and for a second Stiles almost forgets what's been setting him off edge for the last couple of days. 

Until he sees the cars parked outside. Not just his dad's car, but the deputy's car.

"Christ." Stiles shoulders his backpack more tightly. 

"Is that Deputy Parrish's car?" Scott pulls off his helmet and pushes the kickstand down on his bike. "Dude. Didn't you say he was over last night?"

"Uh, yeah." Stiles rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah." He goes up the walkway, unlocks the door, opening it slowly. "Dad?"

There's a sudden crash, from the kitchen. "Son of a--" His dad, and then, "I thought you said he wasn't coming home until later--?!" Parrish.

Stiles counts his fingers. Okay, ten. He's not dreaming. "Dad!" he yells. "Coach let us out early for practice!" 

"Uh, yeah, hold on, Stiles! D-don't come into the kitchen!" 

Scott steps in behind him. "Oh, ew," he says. "This room kinda smells like--" 

Stiles turns around, slapping Scott on the chest with both hands, about five, ten times for good measure. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I know. I know what the room probably smells like, I don't need your goddamn wolf powers to tell me!"

"Sorry," Scott says, hanging his head a little. 

Stiles' dad comes out from the kitchen. Stiles grimaces. His dad's shirt is wrinkled. He's sweating a little. Gross, gross, gross. 

"Scott and I are gonna study," Stiles says. "In my room."

"Yeah, uh, sounds good." His dad nods at Scott. "McCall, nice to see you." 

"Sheriff," Scott says, lifting a hand in a wave. 

Deputy Parrish comes out from the kitchen, too. He looks worse than his dad. 

"H-hey," Parrish says.

"Yeah, whatever, Deputy, nice to see you too." Stiles doesn't even look at him as he walks to his room, Scott following close behind. 

Stiles drops his backpack to the ground, plants himself face-first on his bed, and groans. His dad. And Parrish. His dad, and freaking Parrish! What the hell. 

"Uh, Stiles, you all right?" The bed dips with Scott's weight. "Buddy?" Scott's handle settles on Stiles' back. "Dude, it's all right."

"It's not all right!" Stiles rolls onto his side. He slaps Scott on the arm. "Don't you get it?! My dad is seeing Deputy Parrish! The deputy, Scott!" 

"Stiles, it's not the worst thing that's ever happened." Scott places his backpack on the ground. 

"It is the worst thing that's ever happened." Stiles covers his eyes with his arm. "The werewolves, okay, fine, I could handle. The kitsune, fine. Everyone suffering and dying, fine. But my dad is dating someone who looks like he could freakin' go to high school with us!" 

From outside, he hears someone clear their throat. "I'm twenty-four, Stiles."

"Oh my god," Stiles groans. 

"Sorry," Parrish says. "I just wanted to tell you that your dad and I are getting dinner."

"Yeah, okay, thanks for the update! That I didn't ask for, by the way!"

Stiles buries his face in his pillow and waits for the front door to open and close again. 

"I think they're gone," Scott says. He puts a hand on Stiles' neck. "Come on, stop hiding."

"I'm not hiding. I'm repressing. There's a difference." But Stiles turns around, and Scott is looking straight down at him, with that dazed look that newborn puppies get when they just wake up. "Yo, Scott? You all right, Scott?"

"Huh?" Scott shakes out of it. "Yeah! Yeah. I'm good. I'm alright. Uh, look, about your dad, and the deputy . . ." 

"I don't wanna talk about it." Stiles lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "It's just too--it's weird, okay? I didn't even know he was, you know, into--into--into dudes! Men!" 

"Does it bother you?" Scott asks.

Stiles sits up and runs his hands through his hair. Scott is normally not the brains of an operation, but how can he be so dense in this case? "How could it NOT bother me? Not the part about him being into men, but like, he's--he's dating! Dating!"

Scott frowns. "Stiles, is this about your mom?"

"No!" Stiles says, immediately. "Maybe! Yes!" He drops back down on the bed. "Look, my dad hasn't dated in like, a decade, and now . . ."

"Dude, Stiles, it's gonna be okay." Stiles doesn't even realize he's--well, he's not crying, but it's definitely an emotion, an intense emotion, and Scott is pulling him up, rubbing his back. "Your dad's not replacing your mom. You know that, right? It's like . . . look, there's a lot of places in a pack, and when new people come, they aren't replacing the people who have left. They're filling different spaces. It's the same thing with your dad, alright?"

"But," Stiles says. He feels his heart-rate spiking up.

"Stiles," Scott says, hugging him tighter, and, okay, no longer comforting, just painful. 

"Hey, yeah," Stiles says, his chest tight. He hits Scott on the back, hard. "Look, if you, uh, hug me any tighter, you're gonna crush my ribs, buddy."

"Oh. Uh." Scott pulls back and grins sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Thanks, though," Stiles says. He thinks about pulling away completely, maybe suggesting that they do homework, but then he leans back, putting his head against Scott's shoulder. "It's just kinda tough. I mean, you ever--you ever think about your mom dating, again?"

"Sometimes," Scott says, and wraps his arms around Stiles. "Not a lot, though. She's busy at the hospital, and my dad's still around, so . . ."

Stiles closes his eyes. "Yeah." He lets out a breath and then leans back, Scott opening his arm. Scott's face is a little red. "You all right?"

"Uh, yeah," Scott says. "Fine. Perfectly fine." 

"You said you wanted to get some studying done, right?" Stiles asks. 

"Um."

Stiles reaches over to the floor, picking up Scott's backpack. He unzips it and pulls out their history book. "What are we studying in History, anyway?"

"Hey, Stiles," Scott says.

"Some obscure history about the Japanese American experience?" Stiles starts flipping through the book. "Dude, is this even part of the California State standards?"

"I think he just wants us to be cultured," Scott says. "But Stiles . . ."

"Yeah?" Stiles looks up, and Scott is leaning in really close. "Uh, Scott, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just." Scott laughs a little, a tiny chuckle, sort of, and he looks away, then back at Stiles. "You know, it's been a while since we . . ."

Since we . . . 

Oh.

Stiles feels the heat crawl up his face, and then--

"You wanna do that now? What about studying?"

Scott smiles a little. "Come on, man," he says, and then he leans in and kisses Stiles, close-mouthed but gentle, his hands coming up to grip Stiles' arms. "It won't take too long. And you'll feel better afterward." 

"This is a terrible idea," Stiles mutters, pulling Scott closer by the front of his shirt.

"At least you won't be cold," Scott says. 

"But studying after."

"Yeah," Scott says, sounding distracted and not at all like he's paying attention. "Studying." His mouth is on Stiles' neck.

"I can't believe my dad and Parrish are dating," Stiles says, suddenly.

Scott groans. "Stiles," he says. " _Please._ "

"Look," Stiles says, "I'm just saying, it's still really weird to wrap my mind around, and a little pep talk isn't just going to--" 

Scott grabs him and kisses him again, harder this time. "Let's think about it later. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," Stiles says, comforted enough to let Scott push him down against the bed, "we'll figure it out."


End file.
